During my retreat at Nada, I celebrated the anniversary of my baptism. I can remember the actual event since I was baptized as a teenager in another Protestant expression of our faith. I even remember what dress I wore, and how it felt to be "dunked," as we used to say. Baptism by immersion, of course, is the preferred method of baptism, even in the Episcopal Church, but so many of us have never even seen a baptismal pool in a church. The first summer I studied in Santa Fe, the Cathedral where we worshipped did not have a baptismal pool, but when I returned to visit four years later, I discovered they had built a pool right in the center of the church. It reminds all who enter that there is a sacramental method and means for entering into the Christian community.
That particular morning was quiet. It was so cool that I had turned off the small electric fan I was using to circulate the air. Occasionally, the glass or the roof of the solar passive hermitage would "pop," or I would hear a bird chirp, but not even the wind was stirring. There were large cumulus clouds draped over the tops of the Sangre de Cristo, as well as clouds gathering over the San Juan Range, but otherwise the sky was that incredible Colorado blue. Because there had been rain the last two afternoons, the nights turned off cool enough to sleep under a quilt.
I lay down to rest about 3:00 in the afternoon, and shortly afterwards, it began to rain. I thought of Langston Hughes who said, "Let the rain sing you a lullaby." At first there were just a few sputtering drops which dried quickly upon hitting the sand, but then a heavy rain with lightening, thunder and hail began. I moved to the window seat so that I could see what a real desert storm looked like. After a while, the pounding rain let up, but a gentle shower continued to fall. I went out for a walk and found standing puddles on the driveway and foot path between my hermitage and Agape, the main building. The air was cool and clean and smelled of fresh pine.
When I got back from my walk, I put on water for tea, and sat in the rocking chair just enjoying the sound of crickets, the daily visit of the birds, and the squirrel who came to see if I had "accidentally" dropped another apple core on my front stoop. Seeing so much beauty was a feast for my eyes. The rain had baptized the desert, and I could not help but think of Psalm 107:35. "He turns a desert into pools of water, a parched land into spring of water." More than the Psalms, however, Isaiah resonates with water imagery. In Isaiah 35.1, the prophet says, "The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus." It did seem to me that the blooms of wildflowers grew more vivid after each rain and danced happily in the breeze. In Isaiah 35.6, we hear "then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert." When I read this verse, I could not help but think of the deer that made it's bed outside my kitchen window that night. And in Isaiah 43.19, "I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert." Read allegorically, this verse promises renewal for the one who finds life has become a bit of a dry desert. I will put you on notice, however, that even what seems like desert can be a deceptively beautiful place once you learn to read the signs and pay attention to the springs of water!
When I got back from my walk, I put on water for tea, and sat in the rocking chair just enjoying the sound of crickets, the daily visit of the birds, and the squirrel who came to see if I had "accidentally" dropped another apple core on my front stoop. Seeing so much beauty was a feast for my eyes. The rain had baptized the desert, and I could not help but think of Psalm 107:35. "He turns a desert into pools of water, a parched land into spring of water." More than the Psalms, however, Isaiah resonates with water imagery. In Isaiah 35.1, the prophet says, "The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus." It did seem to me that the blooms of wildflowers grew more vivid after each rain and danced happily in the breeze. In Isaiah 35.6, we hear "then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert." When I read this verse, I could not help but think of the deer that made it's bed outside my kitchen window that night. And in Isaiah 43.19, "I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert." Read allegorically, this verse promises renewal for the one who finds life has become a bit of a dry desert. I will put you on notice, however, that even what seems like desert can be a deceptively beautiful place once you learn to read the signs and pay attention to the springs of water!
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